Chapter Text
So this is my first written work. Woop there it is. I've latched onto the A/B/O universe after reading a few from the 100 fandom, and thought I'd give it a try. No Beta so if it's crap and the grammar is weird that's all on me. I'm hoping some of you will point out when something sounds iffy or doesn't make sense because after reading it so many times everything starts to bleed together.
Warning: This first chapter may have hints of dub/con due to all that's tied into the A/B/O universe, but nothing happens.
(So far I have three chapters written out, and I'll upload chapter two later tonight.)
One
It’s the first time Clarke has shifted on Earth. It’s the first time she has been able to shift and she can’t even remember how she did it. It’s the first time she’s shifted and now she’s being hunted, and damn does that just figure to be her luck these days.
Two weeks ago Clarke found herself stumbling out from an escape pod, bleeding and a bit concussed - finding the world which seemed much too bright with all its sounds and smells completely overwhelming. Clarke grasped at the silver watch on her wrist, twisting it against her flesh a few times before black spots invaded her sight. She fainted inside her pod, finally allowing her inner beast to take over and heal her body the best it knew how - by shutting down.
When she awoke days later, her wounds were almost mended, save for one or two broken ribs, and her senses seemed sharper than before. The wet smell of the grass outside and the musty odor of the aged bark, now charred from her landing, invaded her nose. The air was crisp and clean, so unlike the almost stale recycled flow pumped throughout the Ark. Clarke could not stop gulping the air down despite the pain in her ribcage, feeling it filter and cling to her nose - pervade into her expanding lungs and exhale out once again. Delicious.
Her eyes darted from one source of curiosity to the next: a bird (yes an ACTUAL bird), then to the wind blowing through leaves on an old gnarled tree, to the snap of a branch by a skittish rabbit, to the clear blue of the sky filled by the warming light of the sun. Earth was truly amazing, and could fortunately sustain life. The Ark's gamble had paid off.
Clarke was alive.
Clarke was alone.
She missed Wells' kind smile, and Raven's sarcastic barbs. She missed her bed and her unit home, but most of all she desperately missed her father. She missed his muted scent and his comforting presence. He would never have willingly let this happen to her, not like her Mother had - who Clarke grudgingly missed as well.
Her father would have known what to do. He had been half way across the space station when the guard came to collect her. Her mother had just stood there with a regretful, horrified look upon her face. Frozen with her white knuckles twisted in her medical coat as her eyes averted from her daughter's pleading gaze and cries for help.
Clarke hated her mother in that moment. Viciously. She was still confused by everything, but her anger at her mother's inaction was a striking method to get her blood pumping. She still had no idea why she had been sedated and forcibly ejected from the Ark in an escape pod.
Clarke tended to her wounds and spent her time healing by passing the hours just watching the routine of things: the traveling shadows upon the ground, the line of ants imperially marching one by one as they carried pieces of some kind of insect back to their nest. Everything had its time and order on Earth, and until Clarke’s stomach roared its own time for attention, the blonde had been satisfied to keep her quiet watch. Thankfully the resources sent down with her pod had still been intact, and her hunger was mollified and her strength slowly replenished. Her provisions were few and only lasted a week even with her rationing them. She was forced despite her protesting injuries to find a source of water and food if she wanted to stay alive.
This search for water is what led her to this current predicament - to being chased down like some franticly pathetic prey in one of the Ark’s ancient Earth skill’s National Geographic’s; barreling through brush and leaping over fallen logs as if her life depended on it.
It probably did.
One moment she was filling a canteen in a nearby stream to cool her heated throat with the moon's light overhead, and the next her gaze was locked onto two vibrant green eyes hidden in the brush as a thunderous growl met her ears. With the speed of sheer panic, she had taken off into a sprint - not even realizing her form had changed shape until she smelt the pungent odor of others moving around in the forest; her nose burning and causing her to stumble into the woods.
Clarke raced through the trees, certain her pursuers were only toying with her now as she was almost positive she had run past a familiar twisted oak one too many times. Still shocked to even have pursuers, she ran as fast as her feet—now paws, could take her. Her white fur streaking through the leafy green like a comet through the sky. No matter her speed, she remained a bit uncoordinated, took turns too sharply, and misjudged distances - slamming her roughly into rock and bark alike.
Eventually, sweating and exhausted, she fumbled over a raised root and tumbled down into a grassy clearing. Panting for momentary relief of her burning lungs, she managed to stand up on shaking legs. Clarke suddenly took the brunt of a strike to her side, sending her sprawling across the ground to land in yelping a heap.
The first thing that hits Clarke as her head stops spinning is the powerful scent; her senses are smothered by the smell of the morning rain and lush buddings of the wood. It wafts off of this menacing wolf now standing over her with each twitch of its flattened ears or deep exhalation of its thundering chest. Its coat is dark and full, almost black as it reflects the glint from the moonlight shining down through the branches of the woods above. The scent screams Alpha and Clarke’s nose almost on fire with this wolf’s intense musk. Is this what Alphas are supposed to smell like? This Alpha with piercing jade eyes, snarling fiercely above Clarke - bares its deadly teeth.
Submit. Now.
Clarke can do nothing but stare back. She doesn’t understand how her body knows this command, how it can hear it and want to give into it - to simply obey. Clarke’s instinct is telling her to roll her head to the side and present the snow white fur of her neck to this Alpha. Clarke’s instinct is to submit—and it scares the hell out of her. She feels trapped in a foreign body, and the inability to control her own skin is well on the way to causing a panic attack. With a strength she didn’t know she had, Clarke bares her own teeth and lets loose a feral growl up through her throat.
The Alpha’s eyes above her widen and for a moment it seems the Alpha is temporarily in shock. Once Clarke’s full growl reaches the Alpha, a flood of dominant pheromones blasts through the air and knock into Clarke, making her heart race and her breathing come out in short pants as she struggles to keep her mind clear in the face of this Alpha’s scent. The command is deafening in its clarity.
SUBMIT.
The Alpha’s eyes watch intently as the white wolf below resists the order, shifting with the effort to keep the soft fur of her neck covered and protected. As impressed as the Alpha is, this is the dark wolf’s territory and the Alpha will not be denied this submission. Without so much as another warning, the Alpha snarls and darts forward, clamping large jaws around the underside of the white wolf’s neck.
Clarke jumps in alarm as the sharp points of canines graze the soft flesh of her neck and her pulse beats erratically against the Alpha’s hold. Clarke’s surprise causes a wrench of her limbs against the large wolf. The Alpha growls acutely in her chest and the jaws tighten.
Clarke is panicking; she can feel her inner wolf snarling at her to attack, to get free, to run and keep running but Clarke knows with this Alpha chasing her she wouldn’t make it very far even if she could get out of the jaws immobilizing her. Plus, her body won’t stop trembling, and she knows it won’t be long before she feels the prick of canines beginning to sink into her neck. The scent of her own blood spooks Clarke out of her thoughts and her body jerks violently as though an electric shock has passed through every synapse in her skin.
Clarke hears herself whine against the hold as she feels a hot, stifling sensation creep up the line of her spine as something tight and unyielding snaps inside her belly. Abruptly, she stretches out her neck and lays flat on her back, presenting the gleaming white of her stomach and throat.
Complete submission.
The Alpha is still growling but upon seeing Clarke’s capitulation, the ample growl turns into a low rumble against Clarke’s belly. Clarke whines louder as her body reacts to the over abundance of Alpha pheromones pushing fixedly into her senses. She can smell her own heated pheromones reacting to this Alpha, seeping through the air of the clearing and creating a cloud around them.
Clarke feels the Alpha immediately freeze over her and the dark wolf shifts to purposefully inhale a lungful against the underside of Clarke’s neck where her scent is strongest. Powerful shudders course through the Alpha’s muscles as though pleased with this discovery, and Clarke attempts to remain motionless.
The Alpha’s chest continues to steadily rumble, and Clarke can now feel it vibrating through her entire being. She feels like her body is on fire and she needs something - something to desperately grasp to ground her lest she fall into the urges of her wolf. Clarke mewls softly against her captive as she feels a strange shift in the air settle against their fur. She can feel the strong musk of the Alpha sliding against her nose and it now seems so inviting. Clarke wonders if the Alpha can sense her fear and confusion, her wariness and ultimately the fresh and suffocating need rolling off from her body in waves.
The press of the Alpha above Clarke starts to feel comforting instead of overbearing, the dominant scent becoming something tactile and Clarke wants nothing more than to taste it on her tongue, and scrape it under her teeth. She hates herself for it; she hates her body’s instinct in this moment. She’s frightened and she doesn’t understand, but she keens and whines.
The Alpha allows Clarke to shift her body onto her side before the larger wolf lowers itself to rest firmly against Clarke’s squirming body. The heavy weight of the Alpha is welcome and sends Clarke into a twisting mess. The canines still wrapped around Clarke’s throat ease and adjust but do not release her from their possessive hold. Clarke’s whimpers grow in volume as her trembling evolves into shaking.
She can’t stop the onslaught of the fire blazing under her skin, she can’t stop the burning spreading through her blood or the clench of her lower abdominal muscles as an unfamiliar ache begins to make itself known. The low rumbling from the Alpha turns into a deep resounding purr and Clarke can’t stop herself from relaxing despite being held by an Alpha she knows nothing about.
A sudden chorus of howls break through the night air and causes both wolves to start slightly. The trampling of leaves and the heavy breathes of running bodies in the distance cause Clarke to whine lowly in question as the Alpha grips onto her neck more firmly. The foreign scents of numerous wolves slowly approach the clearing where the pair rest. The Alpha does not appear threatened but Clarke begins to twist and violently shake beneath the dark wolf. The closer the other wolves, Alphas and possibly Betas (Clarke can’t quite tell the difference yet), get to her the more she starts to thrash and the harder the grip on her neck becomes. She’s vulnerable and trapped and her body is quaking. The scent of the others on top of this Alpha is too much to handle.
Just as the first arrived wolf emerges from the shadows, the Alpha above Clarke lets loose a vicious snarl along with a burst of dominant Alpha pheromones - halting all progress from the oncoming pack. The reverberating growl echoes through the clearing and Clarke can finally see the pack, the Alpha’s pack, edge around them but acknowledge the boundary.
A dusky honey-blonde wolf with a generally milder scent compared to the Alpha’s, steps forward with a lowered head - huffs at the dark wolf before letting loose a questioning bark. The Alpha has not stopped growling and her teeth are slightly digging into Clarke’s neck again as the Alpha presses Clarke’s agitated form closer to the ground below her. However, the Alpha allows this lean wolf with intelligent golden eyes to approach and sniff at Clarke’s ear. The honey-blonde wolf suddenly turns and snaps at a hulking brown wolf who had inched forward to glimpse the scene before them causing the pack to startle and nip at each other as they pushed backwards. With a howl from the honey-blonde wolf, the pack easily retreats into the forest as the lean wolf turns back to Clarke and the Alpha and eyes them curiously.
Clarke has been emitting nothing but need and fear into the clearing that not even the Alpha’s dominant scent could mask completely. She is on the verge of crying out, she is shaking so badly she can’t keep her neck still enough as her soft skin catches against the Alpha’s long canines. She yelps in pain and the Alpha instantly releases her neck.
Immediately, Clarke feels the smooth warmth of a tongue lap over the slight nicks on her flesh and she gratefully pushes her neck up into the contact. Clarke doesn’t understand what is happening, she doesn’t know this Alpha or this pack but she can understand this comfort even if it only lasts for a moment.
It's all she can do.
Clarke closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, relaxing her body into the ground and the purring Alpha pressed against her. The heat under her skin has spiked through her quickly and has left her exhausted and alert all at once. She’s tired and her muscles are tense, but they ache and ripple, and she feels so empty. A broken whine leaves Clarke’s chest and the cadence of the Alpha’s purr kicks up as it is joined by another soothing purr from the dusky wolf to her side. The air around her becomes heavy with the Alpha and Beta scents and her body is quickly becoming overwhelmed again. Clarke allows herself to fully collapse against the ground, digging her snout roughly into the grass and saturating the blades with her scent. Her mind fogs over with smell and touch and so many sensations that she can’t hold it in any longer.
Clarke twists in the Alpha’s hold until she’s forcing her muzzle into the thick onyx fur as she breathes this magnificent creature in and plaintively nips at the Alpha’s neck. The Alpha growls softly as the honey-blonde wolf nips lightly at Clarke's shoulder in return. The Alpha slides her canines across the tender fur of her neck in a calming gesture, but this only adds to the urgency in Clarke’s movements as she attempts to rub as much of herself against the Alpha. She can’t stop touching this Alpha. Her Omega is keening intensely. She would be embarrassed if the feeling wasn't so consuming.
The Alpha and Beta both notice the frantic energy radiating off of the white wolf as whimpers crack in her chest and into the Alpha’s fur. Clarke needs the physical connection, she needs to be smothered in this Alpha’s scent and this new wolf grooming her neck isn’t giving her pause either. Their combined scents are comforting to her even if their touches are too soft and their bites too light. Clarke basks in the attention anyway and licks at the honey-blonde’s snout in an encouraging gesture, stretching her neck as far as she can from underneath the Alpha’s rumbling weight.
Eventually, the consoling nips and grooming quiet Clarke’s delirious motions, and she relents her fatigued and unsatisfied muscles to lay upon the ground - breathing in the dew off the grass as the weight of the day pulls her under into sleep.
The moon shines brightly down from the midnight sky as the Alpha howls under its light.
TBC